


Orange-Flavored

by misura



Category: The Kingston Cycle - C. L. Polk
Genre: Kissing, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, POV First Person, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 11:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16953339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Tristan and Miles make out for a bit.





	Orange-Flavored

**Author's Note:**

  * For [torigates](https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/gifts).



Tristan kissed me, slow and sweet and tasting of oranges - or was that me? Most of the time, I could tell the difference. It helped that Tristan and I had experienced life until this point very differently.

"What's wrong?" Tristan stared at me, expression worried. I felt the worry through our bond as well. Pretty weak, as these things went. Fair enough, given that one answer to his question would be, _Nothing_

Another would be, _You stopped_ , but I didn't want to sound like a complete idiot.

"I - nothing." I shook my head.

"All right." I suspected it was the bond that reassured Tristan more than anything I'd said. Through it, he'd be able to sense that there really was nothing wrong, that I felt perfectly all right.

He resumed kissing me. I kissed him back, feeling where his mouth would be before it got there, knowing where his hands were going before they touched my skin. I felt the way he slowly went from simply being pleased to make me happy, to touch and kiss me without needing to worry about anyone interrupting, to wanting things less easier to put into words. He found me desirable. I could tell that much.

Given what he'd done for me, what had already happened between us, it shouldn't have surprised me, and yet the strength of his desire, the sheer sensation of being _wanted_ \- it was a lot. It was more than I'd ever hoped to find with another human being.

Which, arguably, Tristan wasn't.

"You keep getting distracted," Tristan said. "Am I boring you?" His tone made it clear he meant to tease.

"Not at all." Given five minutes, I might have come up with something smart. Given an hour, I might have thought of something funny to make him laugh. Maybe.

"But you'd rather I spent less time taking things slow and more time getting down to business?" He chuckled. I decided that I liked his chuckle almost as much as his laugh.

"We could be sharing a bed, doing nothing, and I'd be happy," I said. We'd done so often enough, while I'd still been under Cormac's tender care and iron rule.

"Is that what you want?" Tristan's voice was still light.

Through the bond, he would be able to sense how very much that _wasn't_ what I wanted, but I supposed there wouldn't be any harm in using words.

"No. I want - I don't want us to do nothing."

I could tell that part of him wanted to tease more out of me. I didn't think I would mind too much if he did. The bond worked both ways, after all, and I knew that he would never make me wait longer than I'd be able to bear.

"Another night," he said, replying to my thoughts rather than the words I'd spoken aloud. "And I think that perhaps you, too, enjoy teasing me a bit, seeing how far my patience can stretch."

"I'm pretty sure I'm just still getting used to the idea of having a husband." Not that anyone in Aeland would consider us married, but still.

"Your life has taken some unexpected turns these past months," Tristan acknowledged.

My life hadn't been the only one. Half of Aeland's population still refused to believe the aether they'd found so convenient to use for all manners of things had come from using the souls of the dead as a power source, rather than permitting them to travel onward, to Solace.

"So has yours. I doubt this was the outcome you envisioned for your mission."

"I regret nothing," Tristan said. The bond blazed with the truth of his statement, with the fierce joy he took in having found someone like me, someone brave and good and smart and beautiful, for whom he would gladly lay down his life if he had to.

"I regret starting this conversation instead of keeping my mouth shut and letting you get on with what you were doing."

This time, he laughed, but softly. His breath was warm on my skin. "That situation is remedied easily enough, I dare say."

I didn't dare say that I thought he was right. I had no intention of repeating past mistakes.

On closer examination and after careful consideration, I decided that the answer to the question of who of us tasted of oranges was that it didn't matter.

It didn't matter at all.


End file.
